


Come Fly With Me

by hoodedjustice



Series: Far Beyond the Stars oneshots [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Far Beyond the Stars, Basically an excuse to write Julian and Ben being Cool Writer Friends, Brief implied Elim Garak/Julian Bashir, Technically Kay (Kira) and Jules (Julian) were married but. we're ignoring that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:36:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8522416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodedjustice/pseuds/hoodedjustice
Summary: Jules has been trying to tell Ben something all week.[indulgent vignette for the science fiction writers au in Far Beyond The Stars, 6x13]





	

**Author's Note:**

> I basically love the idea of the senior officers being nerdy writers and facing adversity together while making up a bunch of cool shit so. here we are
> 
> forgive me for this being totally unedited - and a character list in case you've forgotten the names for each character's counterparts
> 
> Benny Russell - Ben Sisko  
> Jules/Julius - Julian Bashir  
> Cassie - Cassidy Yates  
> Herb - Quark  
> Kay Eaton - Kira Nerys  
> Darlene - Jadzia Dax  
> Douglas Pabst - Odo  
> Albert Macklin - Miles O’Brien  
> Willie Hawkins - Worf  
> Jimmy - Jake

Ben loves his job as a science fiction writer; he wouldn’t trade it for the world. His coworkers buzz around him too, everyone busy busy busy. It’s the usual afternoon bustle.

Each of them is crowded into their respective niches, surrounded by whirlwinds of paper and the room filling with the familiar click clack of typewriter machines. Ben’s staring at his cup of coffee with a sour expression when Julius scoots right up to Ben’s desk on a wheely chair.

“Did you need something?” Ben asks after he finishes his staring contest with his coffee. Julius has got a smug little look as he leans against Ben’s desk from the chair, elbows resting on the top. His eyes bear that sort of mischievous glitter that Ben’s come to recognize as an ominous sign of bad ideas.

“I think a _better_ question is do _you_ need something?” Ben can’t retain his unhappy look, not under his friend’s gaze like that; his features break into a smile that takes up his whole face. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

“No. Just lamenting some lost opportunities. You know, I really thought I was onto something with that Sisko character.” Julius sits upright again, eyebrows twitching as though Ben has just said something in a secret language that Julius now translating. He sticks his cigarette holder between his teeth and grins full on now.

“Keep writing it, Benny, it’s not your fault that you’re a writer from far beyond the stars.” Benjamin rolls his eyes, and reaches out with his leg, giving Julius’s chair a good shove away from his desk. He can tell this isn’t the conversation Julius came over here to have, and if Julius didn’t start a conversation on topic, then there was no hope of ever reaching it.

“Your writing’s corny enough, Jules,” Ben says, chuckling a little, “I don’t need your conversation to be corny too. Get back to work.”

•

Ben gets to the diner late after a rather long and painful night spent writing, he’s looking forward to seeing Cassie all day and when he gets there, two unfortunate obstacles stand in his way: First, there’s Willie Hawkin’s sitting up in a high chair at the diner counter, bothering his fiance again. Nothing new.

Second, and more pressingly, there’s _Jules._

Jules is sitting in the corner booth actually chatting with several folks, everyone enraptured by his apparently enchanting tail. Benny can’t believe his eyes. The only person Benny really sees from work outside of the office is Herb, and occasionally Kay; but never _here_ , at the diner.

It’s rather simple, that’s just it is. This diner is in a different part of town, it just...isn’t for white folks. It’s not a distinction Ben likes to admit because facing the rampant racism in his life can be overwhelming, but he can’t ignore it when the confrontation of such a divide is sitting right in front of him, wildly gesturing and telling stories.

“Cassie,” Ben says, making a bee-line for the counter while still staring at Julius, “How long has he been here?”

“Oh, Jules?” Cassie smiles immediately, apparently also infected by his charm. “Just an hour or two, he said he wanted to talk to you and he knew you were going to be here; he said he didn’t mind waiting.” Willie twists to throw a glance towards Julius too, and then turns back to face Ben and Cassie.

“If you ask me, that boy’s looking for trouble,” Willie murmurs lowly, “Waltzing in here like it’s not strange. And it’s because of you Benny- he’s upsetting the balance.” The baseball player turns to Cassie with a wide smile, tells her, “You’re better off with me, Cassie, I don’t bring this kind of trouble to your diner.”

“When are you gonna stop chasing my heart, Willie? I’ve told you, it’s spoken for…”

Cassie’s words fade as Ben steps away from the counter, tentatively walking toward Jules’ booth where at least six people are congregated, including Jimmy. After a minute of listening Benny realizes that Julius is currently recounting the donut battles between Herb and Pabst, round for round, play by play.

When he finishes the most recent round, the people around him burst into laughter, and that’s when Julius notices Ben standing there.

“Oh,” Julius says, immediately sitting up, “Benny! I was just talking to some lovely folks. Here, here, sit.” Benny shoos away Jimmy with a hard look while Jules, in undoubtedly the most charming tone, persuades his other listeners to give them privacy.

“What was it you wanted to discuss?” Ben inquires as soon as it’s just them, unable to hold off his curiosity.

Jules smiles, immediately releasing a flood of ideas he’d had, telling Benny all about his new story, his magnum opus, apparently. Ben listens, critiques, and compliments; however, he never relaxes. The whole conversation is spent in a sort of timid limbo between small talk and real conversation. For someone who had wanted to talk, Jules seemed only to be telling Benny things that were perfectly acceptable work conversation.

Before Ben really knows it, they’ve spent the whole rest of Cassie’s shift talking about reading, and while Cassie clocks off Julius says his goodbyes, thanks Ben for the company, and departs. It’s not an unpleasant way to spend the evening, but Ben can’t shake a nagging feeling that there was something Julius had wanted to tell him.

No matter. It can wait.

•

The next morning, when Benjamin’s heading into work, there’s a lovely woman standing outside the front door with Jules, both of them smoking. She’s got long sleek hair pulled back into a bun and what appears to be the latest in women’s fashion– tighter, sleeker, and sultrier than any father would ever let his daughter get caught dead in.

“What are you doing out here?” Ben calls when he gets closer, only after making sure not too many folks were around to see a black man go inside. “It’s picture day, better get in early before Herb takes all the good ones.”

“Impossible,” Jules answers as he glances up, grins as he straightens his ascot. “Herb would have to good taste to do that.” The woman looks up too, gives a slight smile as she very visibly checks Ben out; he tries to shake the uncomfortable feeling he’s left with. White women are trouble for men like him.

“And who’s this?” Ben asks once he’s closer to them, offering a friendly enough smile.

“My name’s Darlene,” the girl says immediately, her voice, expression, attitude so saturated with enthusiasm that Ben’s taken aback. “I’m Mr. Pabst’s new secretary, pleased to meet ya!” She offers him the hand not holding a thing cigarette holder to Ben for a handshake, one that he takes briefly before nodding to the door and the herd the three of them inside.

“You too,” Ben replies shortly, and to Jules he says, “Making friends already?” There’s a quiet teasing in his voice.

Julius smiles sort of sadly when he answers, “It’s the accent, ladies love it.” His response carries his normal notes of amusement, but it lacks his normal enthusiasm, there’s no real laughter behind it, and that sticks with Ben.

When they get up to the office, Darlene flies right through the door like a hurricane, immediately floating over to Kay with a big smile, flirtily batting her eyelashes and Ben raises an eyebrow. If Darlene was smart she wouldn’t get too friendly with Kay at work; or at the very least not in front of Pabst.

He turns back to Julius at the top of the stairs, cocking his head. 

“What’s got you so blue?” he asks gently, “Cassie’s visiting her mother, you know, we could get drinks and talk about it.” Julius looks up again, and stares at Ben with his mouth hanging open, like he’s got something to say but not the heart to say it. Ben’s convinced Jules is about to let the words out until the silence between them is interrupted by Herb’s shouting inside the office sprinkled with Albert’s stuttering.

“Pabst, you’re a dog, you know that? A disgusting human being-”

“No, n-no, it’s not a big deal-” Macklin tries to interject.

“Albert. Albert, listen to me, you’re a damned good writer and just because you want to start writing about humans again instead of robots doesn’t mean this fascist of a man cancel your story-”

It’s the usual back and forth between Herb’s progressive liberal attitude and Pabst’s conservative red tape, and it gets a sad laugh out of the both of them. After a second, Jules finally does speak.

“I’ll take you up on that drink.”

•

They sit in the furthest booth in the back, faces lit up by the candle centerpiece. Ben’s nursing a scotch while Julian’s got a martini. They’ve both had enough to be on the borderline of tipsy, relaxed and talking freely in the club.

On the stage there’s a singer, a la Sinatra, singing _“We’ll just glide, starry-eyed…”_

By now Jules is grinning into his drink, a lot less glum than earlier. Ben’s glad to see it.

“Julius,” Ben says in the warm voice he reserves for his friends, “You know, I’m not a fool. I may let our publisher swindle me now and then, but I’m a smart cookie. You’ve been trying to tell me something all week.” Jules raises his hands.

“Guilty,” Julius admits, and then he leans forward on the table. “I know, I’ve been working up the nerve. I’m not like you, Benny, don’t got a lot of bravery like you do.” Ben shrugs; he knows now exactly what Julius is trying to get at: it’s the one thing they truly have in common. 

Benjamin is a black man. Julius of course is white and English, that’s not their common struggle. Julius is, as they say, _queer as a three dollar bill._ Neither trait - blackness nor queerness - was acceptable in current society.

Ben had found out long ago when Jules had first started working at the magazine, having accidentally encountered Julius at a bar with someone. At first, there was some apprehension between them; Julius unsure whether Ben meant to make his life a living hell and Ben thinking the same about Julius.

In time it had became something that brought them closer together, though: the unspoken struggle to feed their desires to be themselves, unapologetically.

Since, Ben and Julius occasionally go out for drinks, chat about the assholes they encounter and the little victories they have.

“Talk to me,” Ben finally says, expression and body language as inviting as he can manage.

“I…” Julius looks around and then leans closer, whispering into Ben’s ear, “I met someone.” He sits back right after with a big smile on his face, eyes shining. He looks inexplicably pleased with himself, as if he’s just managed to rob a cookie jar. Benny can’t help returning Julius’s ridiculously happy expression.

“Tell me about him.” Jules, if possible, lights up even further.

“Well, where do I start? Firstly, he’s a tailor…”

•

Next Monday at the office, Jules walks in wearing a jacket Ben has never seen before, wearing a smile the size of one of those bat’leth things that Roy is so fond of drawing.

“Jules,” Herb says with surprise, looking at him intently with suspicion, “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Nothing, just feeling inspired, is all,” Julius answers. Darlene floats over from her desk to touch Julius’ jacket, feeling the fabric and admiring the stitching.

“Is this new?” she asks in that light, airy tone of hers, and Jules nods yes. Ben can’t help chuckling a little to himself. The others flock around the look at the new jacket while Ben remains at his desk, joined by the publisher Pabst.

“Do you know something about this?” Pabst asks, sounding more like an interrogating constable than a simple publisher.

“I don’t know a thing, Douglas,” Ben answers.

And when Jules gets the cover of their magazine next month with an intense adventure story about a doctor and his close, close spy-disguised-as-a-tailor friend, well. Benjamin doesn’t know anything about that either.


End file.
